Monto is up with the rooster at 6 am and bounces over to Nina and Monicas tent to return the blankets we borrowed last night. They aren’t too pleased about having to answer the door at 6 am but what are you going to do?
I eat hurried breakfast in order to make it to the yoga class at 8, only to find out that there isn’t any… Noone is able to explain why, but there you go, this is probably not the last chance for yoga on this trip. So I sit in the lobby and surf until the bus is leaving at 9.
Khujaraho is 170 km away and is said to take 5-6 hours. Monto sits next to me, eager to see pictures from Sweden. So I show him some on my laptop and also plays him some Swedish music on my mp3-player. We also set a new record for spotting a rickshaw with the most amount of people in it, the new record being 11 where 7 are inside and 4 on the outside…
At a rest stop I try the local orange soda Mirindi which is chock full of coloring making my tongue just as orange as the soda. The roads are actually better than expected for once and we make good time to Khajuraho. As we close in on the place the we come upon a road only days old to which they are still adding lines. This is because the Prime Minister is in town discussing domestic policy future and such. Hilariously enough they have a tree standing 1 m into the road and instead of cutting it down they’ve decided to paint the lines around it. India in a nutshell…
We decide it best to see the famous hindu temples with the erotic carvings before sundown and head over there right away. We find a guide with decent English at the gate and pay him to come along. I’m required to put my little gorillapod in a locker at the door though, or I’m able to take too good pictures I guess. The guide seems to be a good decision as he tells us a lot about the symbolism in the carvings. Not all of them are erotic in nature, it’s actually a minority, most of them tells us about how to achieve moksha by proper training and state of mind. As an aside the whole western temple area used to be flooded back in the day so access was by boat only.
There are also little stories like the husband with the long beard that the wife pulled off if he was unfaithful, and therefore only faithful husbands dare have long beards! He tells us about the scorpion on the leg and in the stomach??? About the symbolism with the monkey, where a man teases a monkey with a stick so that the monkey will jump on the woman he’s holding and than she in turn will jump into his lap. The monkey symbolizes mischief. As we exit the park the sun is on it’s last legs and we get some absolutely gorgeous views of the temples against the setting sun.
We find Elin and Sara at café nearby and after eating a bite we try to walk back to the hotel. We then find out why Khajuraho is infamous for their annoying shopkeepers. More or less everyone is trying to guilt trip you into their shop filled with worthless trinkets. We finally escape though, even if it takes an hour or so and end up at one of the nicer shops in town. The owner calls himself “Super Mario” and simply that is reason enough to visit him. He has great selection of not only pashmina and silk, but also bags, rugs and pillow covers. He turns out to be a really good guy and almost the entire group end up shopping from him.
Leaving Mario’s I make a pit stop back at the hotel to drop off my shopping. I’m all tapped out now and need to refuel on cash. The ATM is a good walk a ways though and I’m dreading the gauntlet I’m sure will come. For some reason it doesn’t come though, maybe it’s my determined gait that’s doing the trick, I don’t know. I don’t get all the way there though, I’m offered a ride by two guys on a motorcycle, they’re students and seem alright so I go with them. Luckily this brand of ATM also works with my card, but I forget which kind it is.
The guys gives me a ride back and wants to chat over a cup of tea. I go along with it and it turns out that they are curious of what I make of India so far. I tell them about all the annoying scams and crazy littering and they seem apologetic but acknowledges the problem. We also talk about the caste system, the Bofors scandal (of which they haven’t heard), Sweden and Ravan (which was the topic of the festival in Jaipur). They also talk me into letting them show me around the next morning, showing the village with the houses separated according to caste, the school, some more of the temples and so on. As we don’t leave until lunch the next day I agree and also ask them if they know someone reliable selling bronze statuettes. Of course they do and I get a Hanuman figurine, but also find a nice handmade silver chain.
I get back to the hotel at around 10 pm and find the others in the restaurant, drunk as skunks (especially Helena)! Turns out they were shopping some more at Super Mario’s and they got their hands on some Old Monk rum which they were merrily consuming right there in the store. Now they’re just back at the hotel for a final nightcap where they also picked up this nice German girl, Sabrina, touring India with her mom. She’s a seasoned backpacker and has lots of great stories, we end up getting each others Facebook profiles in case we can hook up later in Varanasi, to which she’s also going.